


Day 7: whatever you want

by readbetweenthelions



Series: Yakulev Week [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Drunk Blow Jobs, Gay Bar, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbetweenthelions/pseuds/readbetweenthelions





	Day 7: whatever you want

The music pounds loud in Yaku’s ears and the club is dark and Yaku is _drunk_. He’s five drinks in, which is to say that he’s drunk off his ass, especially compared to Kuroo, who has had an equal amount of alcohol but who has nine inches and thirty pounds on Yaku to balance it out more evenly. Yaku doesn’t even know where Kuroo is. He’s somewhere in this club, certainly, but not anywhere near Yaku at the moment.

He’s dancing with a guy who is _so fucking tall_. When Yaku grinds against him, their hips don’t quite match up, thanks to the guy’s long legs. He’s not a bad dancer, though. Not that Yaku is excellent, and not that he’s sober enough to really care. This guy is attractive, at the very least. Yaku can see the lightness of his hair even in the darkness of the club and the stretched-out, model-like length of his limbs and torso and neck. And he’s got a pretty face, what Yaku can see of it during the flashes of light that bathe the dance floor now and then.

The guy’s hands slip down to Yaku’s waist, and Yaku lets them rest there. Vaguely, Yaku wonders where Kuroo is. Yaku isn’t usually the one who gets to pick up on guys at clubs and bars and things, because Kuroo is usually around since they usually go out together, and Kuroo is more charismatic and charming than Yaku in nearly every situation. Or maybe it’s that Kuroo is more of a slut. Maybe it’s good that Kuroo isn’t around, since it’s usually Kuroo who gets to do this sort of dancing. It’s Yaku’s turn for a change.

God, this guy is fucking tall. To Yaku’s annoyance, he has to lean down to speak in Yaku’s ear.

“What’s your name?” the guy shouts over the music.

Yaku can’t hear him that clearly, with the bass beat pumping and the volume of everything else seeming turned down in comparison. “Huh?”

“Your _name_.”

His name? “Morisuke.”

“I’m Lev.”

“What?”

“Lev!”

It sounds foreign, and Yaku isn’t sure he heard him right anyway, but in the end it doesn’t matter. This guy will either stop dancing with him soon enough, or he and Yaku will fool around and never see each other again. That’s sort of the point, isn’t it?

Yaku hooks his wrists over Lev’s shoulders and pulls him a little closer. Yaku’s hips sway and he grinds hard against Lev, pushing for more contact. Yaku has definitely danced with worse dancers, and less cute ones. Yaku is distantly aware of licking his lips and stroking his hand up to rest in the curve of Lev’s neck. He pulls a little, bringing Lev closer.

Lev has to stoop a little and Yaku has to tilt his head up, but their lips meet despite the height difference – nearly a foot, by Yaku’s estimation. Lev’s kiss is soft, almost _gentle_. That won’t do. Yaku presses a hand on the back of Lev’s neck to pull him tighter to Yaku’s lips. Yaku parts his lips, and when Lev does the same, he momentarily sucks at Lev’s bottom lip and scrapes it lightly with his teeth. Yaku lets their tongues entwine for a moment, just a taste, before tipping his face away.

“Hah,” Yaku says, a bit breathless, though Lev won’t hear it over the music. He struggles to focus on the rhythm of his dancing through the haze of inebriation. It’s not easy to coordinate kissing with dancing, and everything else. Yaku has to take a short break, to catch his breath and find the easy movement of his body again. When he feels like he’s reestablished his rhythm, Yaku catches Lev in another kiss, this time with more tongue.

They dance through several songs, kissing sloppily and moving against each other, and they don’t once let go. Lev isn’t a bad kisser, and even though Lev completely dwarfs him, he still lets Yaku take the lead. Yaku’s always liked that in a guy, when they let him take the lead. Lev’s mouth tastes a little like alcohol, but he’s sure his own is worse – or maybe Lev tastes more like alcohol now because he’s been kissing Yaku for so long. Whatever. As he’s dancing with Lev for what must be the sixth song, or maybe the seventh, their hips moving together and Lev’s fingers gripping Yaku at his waist, Yaku can feel the edges of his perception sharpening again – some of the alcohol is wearing off. What a shame. Yaku doesn’t want to be sobering up already.

“I need another fucking drink,” Yaku says in Lev’s ear, a hand on the back of Lev’s neck to pull him down in range of this maneuver.

“Okay,” Lev says.

Yaku doesn’t stop to see if Lev is surprised when Yaku takes his hand and tugs him off the dance floor. He drags Lev towards the bar, where it’s a little quieter than the dance floor but not by much. This club isn’t quite as crowded as it usually is, and there’s only a few people in line at the bar. Yaku relishes the chance to rest his muscles, which are fatigued from the dancing.

“Buy you a drink?” Yaku offers.

“Huh? Yeah,” Lev answers. Yaku feels a tug on his hand when Lev shrugs. Ah, right. Yaku still hasn’t let go of his hand. Well, no point in starting now.

As they step up to the bar, Yaku turns to Lev. “What do you want?” he asks. “To drink.”

“Um,” Lev responds, “ah, whatever you’re having.”

Yaku leans his forearm on the bar for support and calls over the music to the bartender. “Two Jello shots and two vodka cranberries.”

With a nod, the bartender sets about making the drinks, and Yaku finally drops Lev’s hand so that he can dig in his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out a bill and slides it across the bar towards the bartender. Yaku hands Lev one of the glasses, then gathers up the small plastic containers of gelatin and his own glass, and leads Lev to a nearby empty table.

Yaku sets his glass on the table and passes one of the Jello shots to Lev. Lev sets his own drink down in favor of grasping the container Yaku had given him. Lev looks a little confused and mildly uncomfortable, staring at the little plastic container in his hand.

“Have you ever done Jello shots before?” Yaku asks.

Lev shakes his head.

“I’ll teach you,” Yaku says. He pries the lid off his own container and waits for Lev to do the same. “You have to run your finger around the outside part. To loosen it up.” Yaku swipes his index finger around the edge of the container between the red gelatin and the plastic sides as he speaks. He sucks the stickiness from his finger as he watches Lev copy him.

It’s cute, really. Having to teach someone how to do this. He remembers Kuroo showing him, the first time they went out after Kuroo turned twenty. It had rankled Yaku then that Kuroo, who was younger by a couple of months, knew more than Yaku about the ways of alcohol consumption; but Yaku had been a good kid in what now feels like his distant past, had only drank a few times before it was legal for him to – unlike party boy Kuroo. Yaku wonders how much younger Lev is than him. He feels a little old just now, and a little like he used to feel when he was coaching first years in receives as a third year on his high school’s volleyball team. Maybe Lev should call him _senpai_. Yaku almost laughs at the thought.

Lev looks at him, waiting for more instruction. “Then you just… sort of, scoop it out with your tongue,” Yaku explains. He brings the container to his mouth, digs his tongue under the cherry-red gelatin, and lets it fall into his mouth. He chews it a couple of times, just to break the mass of it up a little, and swallows.

Yaku watches Lev struggle with his own for a moment – Yaku had done the same thing his first time, too – and smiles at the triumphant expression on Lev’s face when he finally manages to get the gelatin into his mouth. Lev swallows the gelatin and grins back.

“Not bad, for your first time,” Yaku says. “It’s way easier the second time around, don’t worry.”

Yaku takes a gulp of the vodka cranberry sitting at his left hand, not bothering with the tiny pair of straws the bartender had stuck in it. Ah, a little too watered down. They tended to get that way the later the night went on at this club. Well. At least the drinks here are cheap.

Lev takes a sip of his drink and pulls a face. “It’s strong,” he complains.

“Really?” Yaku says. “Did they make yours stronger than mine?”

Yaku reaches out and takes the drink from Lev’s hand. He takes a small sip, testing it.

“Nope,” Yaku says. He’s sort of disappointed. If they’d made Lev’s stronger, he would have switched him for the one Yaku was holding. They’d been equally cheap with the alcohol on both drinks, though. “They’re the same, watered down as usual.”

“Watered down?” Lev says, incredulous.

“This bar always skimps on the alcohol more the later it gets,” Yaku explains. “Well, the drinks are cheap and this place is trashy to begin with, so I guess I can’t complain. Do you not like it or something? The drink.”

“The Jello shot was easier,” Lev says. “You think this club is trashy?”

“I’ve been to better,” Yaku says. He drains more of his drink, then sets the glass on the table and stirs it with the pair of thin straws. “But this place is home, I guess. It’s the only gay bar in Northeast. Easy to get back to my apartment from, so I end up here more often than not.”

“Oh.”

Lev takes another sip of his drink and Yaku watches him try to hide his grimace. Maybe he’s just not used to alcohol, or maybe he doesn’t usually drink vodka? Yaku shrugs to himself and takes another drink.

Yaku finishes his drink long before Lev finishes his, and spends the time scanning the bar. There are couples all over the place, clinging to each other and laughing at each other’s jokes and kissing. Normally, this kind of thing makes Yaku roll his eyes, but not tonight. After all, he’d just been making out with _this_ giant (and with this thought, Yaku glances over at Lev) on the dance floor for half a dozen songs, so he’s in no position to judge. Still no sign of Kuroo, though. He must be somewhere on the dance floor, Yaku thinks, hidden in the crush of people, or maybe he went outside to smoke or something. Ah, well. It’s not like he needs to find Kuroo right away.

“Ahh,” Lev says, finally setting the glass, now empty of everything but ice, on the table beside Yaku’s. It’s more a noise of relief than a noise of refreshment.

“Next time I’ll buy you something you actually _like_ ,” Yaku tells him.

“Do you want to dance some more?” Lev asks.

“Hmm,” Yaku says. If he were more sober, he would have done that thing he always does when he’s thinking, tapping his lips with his index finger; but the weight of alcohol settles in his muscles and drowns out extraneous movements. “No.”

“Ah, I thought…” Lev says. Yaku cuts him off by reaching out and grabbing one of his wrists. With a tug, Yaku bends Lev enough for their lips to meet again. Lev tastes like the remains of his vodka cranberry and Yaku licks hard against his tongue, chasing the taste of Lev that lingers under the taste of the alcohol.

“No more dancing,” Yaku says when he breaks away from the kiss. He keeps a hand on the back of Lev’s neck, his thumb tracing the line of Lev’s jaw, keeping him bent low enough for Yaku to speak in his ear. “Come with me.”

Yaku and Lev abandon their empty glasses as Yaku drags Lev away, weaving through groups of people towards the bathroom.

“Morisuke, what – ” Lev starts to say as Yaku continues leading him to one of the stalls at the far end of the bathroom. It’s one of the big, wide ones – plenty of room for two people even with Lev’s long limbs. Yaku locks the door behind them.

Yaku kisses Lev once more, lifting onto his toes a little to make himself a bit taller, though the gesture makes his pride suffer. Instinctively, Lev’s hands drop press to Yaku’s low back, pulling him closer. In here, the music is muffled, and Yaku can hear the smooching noises their lips make against each other’s, wet and hot and a little breathtaking. Maybe this guy is a better kisser than Yaku previously thought. How had he pronounced his name again? Yaku remembers it’s short and sharp and starts with L, but... “What was your name again?” he asks, breaking away from the kiss but keeping his hands where they are, gripping Lev’s shoulders.

“Lev,” Lev says, blinking in confusion.

“Lev,” Yaku repeats. “Is that foreign?”

Lev nods. “Russian. I’m half. But I can’t speak it.”

“Mm.”

Yaku hooks a finger at the collar of Lev’s v-neck and pulls it aside. He presses a kiss to the skin just below Lev’s collarbone, then sucks and nibbles, none too gently. He wants to leave marks, wants to make hickeys that last long enough that Lev will have to button his shirts to the very top to hide when he goes to work on Monday.

“You’re Russian and you couldn’t handle a little vodka?” Yaku teases, remembering the look on Lev’s face when he’d taken that first sip of the vodka cranberry Yaku had ordered him. Yaku mouths along the skin of Lev’s neck, lifting himself up a little higher by standing on his toes, and splays his hands out on Lev’s chest.

“I’m – not used to it,” Lev says.

Not used to it? Yaku pulls away a little. “How old are you?”

“Twenty,” Lev replies, looking a little sheepish.

“So you’re just barely allowed in, then,” Yaku says with a small laugh.

Lev looks indignant. “I’m old enough!” he says. He looks down at Yaku quizzically. “How old are _you_ , then?”

“Twenty-three. My birthday was last month.”

“You’re _old_ , then. You’re so small, I thought you might be my age.”

Yaku balls his fists in the fabric of Lev’s shirt. “I’m not old, and I’m _not_ small.”

Lev leans down to kiss him again, their argument swallowed between the two of them. Yaku takes a step forward, pushing his leg between Lev’s and forcing Lev backwards against the wall. Lev gives a little noise in response; not quite protesting, but rather, a small moan to indicate his surprise and pleasure.

“You’re so fucking _tall_ ,” Yaku comments, lips still against Lev’s skin.

Lev tips his face down to look at Yaku. “Well, you’re pretty short, so – ouch!” Yaku stops his comment with a swift, hard bite to the skin of Lev’s neck.

“Don’t,” Yaku says, releasing Lev’s neck from the grasp of his teeth as he speaks, “call me short.”

“Okay,” Lev says. Yaku’s hands slide from Lev’s shoulders to trace the curve of his waist, and then rest on Lev’s hips. Lev kisses him again, a little more superficial this time, hardly any tongue. Yaku’s hands fumble for a minute with Lev’s belt, clumsy from the booze and less practiced taking a belt off someone else than taking one off himself. He finally gets it undone, though, and immediately starts unbuttoning and unzipping the tight jeans Lev is wearing.

“Morisuke,” Lev says. The way he says it, it sounds like he couldn’t really think of anything else to say.

“Sshh,” Yaku says. He lifts a finger to his lips, to complete the gesture. It feels silly, even through the cottony feeling of inebriation, but Yaku ignores it. He reaches a hand down and gropes Lev through his boxers.

“Mm,” Lev says. He pushes his hips forward a little, his cock rubbing against Yaku’s hand. Yaku strokes slowly through the fabric and kisses Lev’s skin where he can reach. He can feel Lev growing hard. Now and then a soft, warm breath escapes Lev’s lips, a small noise of pleasure that makes Yaku’s skin tingle. With a glance up at Lev, Yaku slips his hand under the elastic of Lev’s boxers, touching him in earnest.

Lev gasps, then brings his hand to his mouth to stifle his cry. Ah, well, they _are_ sort of in a public place, after all. Yaku strokes Lev’s cock under his boxers, feeling him swell under his touch.

“Ah…” Yaku says, a small noise, but one he knows will encourage Lev. As predicted, Lev’s hips squirm a little in response, pressing for more and different contact. Well, Yaku can give that to him.

Yaku releases his hold on Lev, and instead uses his hands to tug Lev’s pants and underwear down around Lev’s knees. Lev makes a small noise in his throat, an approval, a small permission. Yaku puts his hands on Lev’s now-bare hips and uses Lev to steady himself as he slowly lowers himself to his knees.

“I don’t…” Yaku says. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Um,” Lev says. “Me either.”

Yaku laughs. He adjusts his hands for a better grasp on Lev’s hips, both to keep Lev still and to stabilize himself. Yaku licks his lips to wet them, then steadies Lev’s cock, now fully hard, with one hand. Yaku teases him with his tongue flicking at the tip of Lev’s cock, making Lev suck in a quick breath through his teeth. Yaku lets the head of Lev’s cock rest on his tongue and opens his mouth wide to take Lev’s cock in his mouth.

As Yaku wraps his lips around Lev, Lev gasps. Immediately, one of Lev’s hands drops to the back of Yaku’s head. His fingers splay, playing in Yaku’s short hair, but he doesn’t push Yaku’s head down. Yaku runs his tongue down the underside of Lev’s cock, then pulls his head back a little. He does this over and over, dipping his head lower and pushing Lev’s cock further into his mouth each time.

“A-ah, M-Morisuke, I…” Lev says. His other hand grips tight at Yaku’s shoulder, neither pulling Yaku closer nor pushing him away, but merely holding on.

Yaku makes a sound around Lev’s cock, and uses the hand that had been gripping at the base of Lev’s cock to jerk him off while he works his mouth around him. This wrings another moan from Lev, makes him lean his head back to rest against the tile of the bathroom wall.

After a minute or so, Yaku takes his mouth off Lev’s cock, but keeps his hand working around it. “Ahh,” Yaku says, a breath of relief at having his mouth empty for a moment. “How does it feel, Lev? Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Lev says. His face is flushed red when he looks down at Yaku – Yaku can see it even in the somewhat dim light of the bathroom. “It’s – it feels – it’s really good, Morisuke.”

Yaku gives a noise of acknowledgment, then runs his tongue around the head of Lev’s cock. Yaku feels Lev’s grip on his shoulder adjust, slackening for a second then gripping down again a moment later. Yaku takes Lev’s cock in his mouth again, turning his head this way and that to reach new places with his tongue.

In the heat of it, Lev’s hips start to buck forward involuntarily. Yaku tries to hold Lev still with a hand against his groin, but it doesn’t keep him still enough – eventually Yaku pins Lev’s hips to the wall with a forearm across Lev’s pelvis.

Yaku can taste Lev’s pre-cum on the back of his tongue, and in response, Yaku speeds up his movements around Lev’s cock. Above him, Lev is making some noise, but not nearly the amount Yaku would like him to be making, in an ideal situation.

Lev’s breath comes in gasps and his voice comes in moans. “M-mm – ah – _aah…_ ”

Yaku can tell Lev is holding down his voice – smart of him, really, because even though this club is sort of trashy and probably no one is going to interrupt them, that doesn’t stop the situation from being embarrassing. All the same, Yaku wants to know he’s doing a good job, wants to hear it from Lev.

“You can come whenever you want to,” Yaku says, lips close enough that they brush the skin of Lev’s cock, wet with Yaku’s saliva. Yaku licks away some of his saliva and Lev’s pre-cum, sucking gently and swallowing it away.

“Whenever…?” Lev says. He looks down at Yaku. Lev’s lips are parted slightly, and his eyelashes flutter gently. Yaku has the sudden thought that Lev is really, _really_ attractive. He wants to see what he looks like when Yaku gets him up to the very edge… “What if I…”

“Come in my mouth?” Yaku says. “Go ahead.”

“R-really – ?”

“Yeah.” With that, Yaku bends forward again to suck at the tip of Lev’s cock.

Yaku works his mouth around Lev, drawing his orgasm out of him. Lev’s fingertips dig into Yaku’s scalp, and he grips Yaku’s short hair between his fingers. Yaku’s arm against him doesn’t stop Lev’s hips from trying to rock forwards, trying to fuck Yaku’s mouth as a reflexive response to the pleasure. Yaku makes sure to speed up when he feels these motions, the desire to make Lev come stronger the more Lev responds to Yaku’s touches.

“M-Mori – ”

The rest of Yaku’s name is cut off by the low grunt Lev makes as he comes. Yaku tastes the salt taste of Lev’s cum on his tongue, the texture of it thick. Yaku doesn’t take his mouth off Lev’s cock until he feels Lev’s hips stop twitching and until Lev’s muscles finally relax. Looking up at Lev, Yaku swallows once to get the majority of Lev’s cum down, then a second time to get the rest of the remnants. Afterwards, he licks his lips.

“Ah,” Lev says. “That’s… you’re… wow.”

Yaku gives a small, breathy laugh. “Yeah,” he says. He reaches a hand up and Lev takes it, helping Yaku up from the floor. Yaku staggers a little bit, trying to regain his balance now that he’s on his feet. He’s still drunk, and he’d really rather be horizontal than vertical at the moment, but he settles for leaning his back against the wall, letting his head rest back against the cool tile.

Lev looks at Yaku, then down at Yaku’s crotch. “You should, ah – let me – ”

Yaku shakes his head against the wall. “Some other time,” he says. Normally he wouldn’t say _no_ , but he’s exhausted from the dancing and the heaviness the booze puts in his limbs and the work of sucking Lev off. For the moment, it’s best to just lean against this wall and shut his eyes and let the world stabilize around him for a bit.

“Some other… do you want there to be a ‘next time’?” Lev asks.

Yaku’s eyes flutter open and his gaze comes to rest on Lev’s face. _He’s really cute_ , Yaku thinks. _Oh, what the hell_. “You know… how about you, uh, come home with me?” Yaku suggests.

A slow smile blooms on Lev’s face. “Okay,” Lev says. “That sounds… yeah, sure.”

This – Yaku said this earlier, when he’d dropped to his knees in front of Lev, but he doesn’t usually do this sort of thing. Hooking up with random people in clubs is more Kuroo’s scene, always has been.

Speaking of Kuroo.

“Hang on,” Yaku says. “I – my friend, I should tell him where I’m going, probably.”

Lev nods.

Yaku pulls his phone from his pocket. He waits with the phone against his ear as it dials, and watches Lev tuck his dick, softening post-orgasm, back into his boxers. Kuroo answers on the third ring.

“Yaku? Where are you,” Kuroo says. Not so much as a hello.

“Bathroom,” Yaku says.

“I lost you a while ago. You been having fun?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Yaku says. He glances over at Lev, watches him pull his jeans back up and button them, the denim clinging tight to his ass once more. “Where are you? It’s quiet.”

“Smoking.”

“Right.

There’s the soft almost-silence on the other end of the phone that seems like Kuroo taking a drag of his cigarette, then the hiss of breath as he lets the smoke out. “What’s the deal, man? What do you want to do?”

“I’m heading home,” Yaku tells him. He looks at Lev for a moment, then adds, “With someone.”

“ _Yaku_ , you _dog_ ,” Kuroo says. Yaku can hear the grin on Kuroo’s face. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“None of your fucking business,” Yaku teases. Lev is buckling his belt, and looks at Yaku with his head cocked like a curious puppy.

“Text me when you get home safe,” Kuroo says.

“Yeah, you too. How long are you gonna stay?”

“I’m going to walk over to that place on 23rd and hang out there for a while – you know, the little bar with that cider I like. The foreign kind. I’ll head home after that, I guess.”

“Alright. Have a good night, man.”

“You too. Give him a kiss for me.”

 _We’re a little past that point_ , Yaku thinks, the taste of Lev’s cum still on his tongue when he swallows. Kuroo hangs up the phone.

Yaku is still drunk, but he’s sobered up a little – or, at least, things feel a little more stable. Yaku looks at the cell phone in his hand, and an idea hits him slowly.

“Look,” Yaku says. “I think if – if you’re already coming to my place anyway, we should exchange numbers, or something. I guess that’s a, a thing that I feel like we should do.”

“Okay,” Lev says.

Yaku opens a new contact entry on his phone, types in Lev’s name, then stops. “You have a last name, Lev?”

“Haiba.”

“Mm. Mine’s Yaku.” Yaku types out the last name, then hands his phone to Lev so Lev can type in his number. After Lev hands his phone back, Yaku texts Lev a short message so Lev can save Yaku’s number. When Lev has finished typing Yaku’s name into his phone, Yaku unlocks the stall door, and the two of them step out together.

Yaku leads Lev out of the club through the side exit. The cool night air is refreshing and a little sobering – that’s good, actually, since Yaku feels like he might be a little too drunk still. Yaku takes a breath and doesn’t smell cigarette smoke, so smokers like Kuroo must be out in front of the club, away from this door.

“Should we call a cab?” Lev asks.

“Nah,” Yaku says, smiling. “We walk. It’s a couple of blocks, not a big deal.”

“Okay.”

As they walk, Lev reaches over and takes Yaku’s hand. It feels too romantic for what this is, too romantic for a blowjob in the bathroom of a trashy gay bar in the part of town that would best be described as “decent,” too romantic for a hookup after a night of dancing and several drinks, but it feels nice anyway. Lev’s long fingers lace between Yaku’s, and Yaku leans against Lev as they fall in step with each other.


End file.
